


The Inn

by FrankenSpine



Series: Scarytales [6]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Ambiguity, Creepy, Dubious Consent, F/F, Freaky, Halloween fever, Horror, Monsters, Non-Explicit Sex, One Shot, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 17:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20764340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankenSpine/pseuds/FrankenSpine
Summary: While hitch-hiking up the East coast, Emma Swan finds herself in the quaint little town of Storybrooke, Maine. Having nowhere else to stay, she opts for the local inn. She quickly realizes that coming here was a dangerous mistake.





	The Inn

**Author's Note:**

> It's not even October yet but I've got a serious case of Halloween fever, so my creative juices are laced with nightmare fuel.

Having traveled all the way from Tallahassee, Emma was amazed when she came upon a hidden gem in the middle of the woods in Maine. It was a little town called Storybrooke. It seemed quaint— rustic, even— which she admired greatly. She was currently twenty-one, and she had spent the past five months as a vagabond, making her way up the East coast either on foot or via hitch-hiking.

She had with her a small backpack, occupied by some clothes, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and various other trinkets. From the zipper hung a wooden keychain, carved to spell out her name. She wore Under Armour sandals, camouflage shorts, and a purple t-shirt with an alien on it. From her shirt collar hung a pair of patriotic sunglasses.

Storybrooke was like a treasure, and though she had little money, Emma felt like the richest woman alive. As she made it into town, she came across a bed and breakfast and stepped inside, as it was starting to rain, and she needed a place to stay for the night. She didn’t see anyone, so she rang the cobweb-riddled bell at the front desk, and just moments later, an old woman emerged from the back room.

“Sorry about that,” the old woman croaked. She opened up a guest book and wiped the dust off of it. “As you can see, we hardly get any visitors here.”

Emma glanced at the page and saw that only three other people had ever signed their names on it.

_Daniel Colter— January 8th, 1983. _

_Jefferson Carroll— November 26th, 1996. _

_Killian Jones— July 13th, 2008. _

A sudden feeling of dread crept into Emma’s mind like a plague, but she tried her best to ignore it as she locked eyes with the strange old woman.

“How long will you be staying?”

“Just for tonight.”

There was a peculiar gleam in the old woman’s eyes. “Would you like the forest view, or the square view?” she asked.

“Uh, forest sounds good,” said Emma.

The old woman just nodded. “Alright, sign your name and the date, please.” She watched like a hawk as Emma did this. “Emma Swan, huh? That’s a nice name.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, that’ll be fifty dollars.”

Emma’s eyebrows shot up. “Fifty? That’s it?”

“Of course.”

“Wow. Cool.”

Emma fished two twenties and a ten dollar bill out of her wallet and handed them to the old woman, who in turn gave her a slender black key with a tag dangling from it. On the tag was the number 9.

“Room nine is the nicest in the whole place,” said the old woman, “I hope you enjoy your stay, Miss Swan.”

“I’m sure I will,” Emma told her.

The second Emma stepped into that room, her entire world was turned upside-down. It was ice-cold in there, the windows were fogged up, and the lights weren’t functioning properly.

A deep frown formed on her brow._ “Nicest room, my ass,”_ she muttered.

“I don’t know about the room,” came a sultry voice, prompting Emma to swiftly turn around with wide eyes. There stood a hauntingly-beautiful brunette with a perfect smile. “But your ass _is_ quite nice.”

“W-What? Who the hell are you?” Emma demanded, “How’d you get in here?”

“I’ve always been here,” said the woman, “but as for who I am, well, why don’t I just show you?”

She slowly made her way closer to Emma, who (for one reason or another) couldn’t move, and she pressed her lips to the stunned blonde’s. She pulled away just seconds later.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me. Let me take care of you. That’s why I’m here.”

Emma’s eyes became glazed over, and she struggled to find her voice. “Y-You— You want to _take care_ of me? You mean like,” she swallowed, _“sex?” _

“I want to make you mine,” the brunette husked.

And so she did. She took, and Emma gave. While the blonde never explicitly said yes, there was never a ‘no,’ either. There was no attempt to stop the debauchery. The brunette bit, kissed, licked and sucked at Emma’s fair skin, humming in pleasure.

As Emma reached an explosive orgasm, she failed to notice the brunette’s teeth morph into razor-like fangs, and those dark eyes flicker from a deep brown to a dangerous red. So, too, did she miss the black sludge that dripped from the woman’s deadly fangs. Only when it seeped onto her skin did she notice, as her flesh began to blister and burn. She started to scream, but was cut off abruptly, silenced as the tar-like substance filled her throat. She could do nothing but stare up in utter horror at the monstrous red eyes of the woman who had seduced her.

And then there was only darkness.

The next morning, a beautiful brunette emerged from room nine, sporting Under Armour sandals, camouflage shorts, and a purple t-shirt with an alien on it. She smiled as she donned her new backpack, and headed to the front desk. Behind it was the old woman.

“Good morning,” the old woman said with a knowing smile, “I hope you found the room satisfactory.”

“Oh yes,” the brunette said, grinning, “It was quite nice.” She dropped her key on the desk.

“I take it you’re leaving us again?”

“I am,” said the brunette, “but don’t you worry. I’ll be back someday.” She eyed the new name in the log book. “Emma Swan,” she said softly, “August 15th, 2019.”

As she stepped out of the inn, she took the glasses from her shirt collar and slipped them on with a bright smile. Soon after, the phone in her pocket began to ring. On the screen was the name _Lily._ She didn’t hesitate to answer it.

“Hello?"

_ “You’re not Emma,”_ came the concerned voice of a woman, _“Who are you? Why do you have her phone?” _

“I’m an acquaintance of hers. She let me borrow it for a little while.”

_ “Well, um, can I talk to her, please?” _

“I’m sorry,” said the brunette, “but I’m afraid she’s unavailable right now.”

_“Where is she?” _

The brunette pursed her lips. “Someplace,” she said softly, and with that, she hung up.

As she came upon a ditch, she tossed the phone into the murky water and continued on down the street, disappearing into the world beyond the town line. Once she crossed over, Storybrooke was no more, but she wasn’t worried. She would come back one day, and when she did, her hidden gem would shine once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Based loosely on "Cellmates," an episode of the show 'Monsters.'


End file.
